


drinking partner

by therealnickyreagan



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26176861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealnickyreagan/pseuds/therealnickyreagan
Summary: Baz needs a drinking partnerwritten in honor of Simon's birthday
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	drinking partner

The clinking sound was what woke Simon.

Well, that and the fact that he didn’t feel Baz’s arms around him. It had become somewhat of a fixture for them- Simon curled up on his side and Baz nestled against his back. Penelope called it “spooning”, though neither boy could figure out why.

But Baz’s arms were absent, and the clinking sound was intermittent and echoed loudly in the room. Simon sleepily reached a hand behind him to feel for Baz. Searching, searching,

ah, there.

“And that would be my thigh, Snow.”

Simon’s eyes flew open. Baz’s voice was somehow both sleepy and hoarse, and his cold skin under Simon’s hand felt like heaven. He rolled himself over until he was staring up at his boyfriend.

It was always quite a sight.

Baz- looking tired and half mad in the moonlight, was leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out in from of him, a bottle of suspiciously American-looking beer in his hand. Several more littered the bedside table, and one was floating next to him. 

But all Simon could see was how beautiful he was.

It still irked Baz to hear him say that, as if he were convinced that he could never be anything more than flawed. Simon disagreed. He was in awe of Baz’s sharp features, the hollows and planes of his (currently shirtless) chest, the ropey muscles beneath his pale skin, even his pronounced “this way to the vampire” widow’s peak that Baz was always complaining about.

Oh, and his fangs.

Merlin, Simon loved Baz’s fangs. Especially when they scraped against his throat in a way that had him begging for more. 

But Baz always pulled back whenever things got too heated, the fear in his eyes overshadowing any lust. Every time Simon’s hands wandered too far, Baz would tense and draw back. Simon couldn’t understand. He wanted Baz so badly he thought he would go mad. 

He was scared too, though. Scared of what Baz might think. Scared he wouldn’t know enough, or be good enough. He had already shown, on multiple occasions, that he wasn’t good enough for the world of mages. And he wasn’t ever good enough for Agatha- not like this was anything like Agatha, this was so much better, and he would just kill himself if he screwed it up-

“Simon.”

Simon startled, realizing he had been zoning out and smiled sheepishly up at Baz. “Sorry.”

Baz smirked softly. “All right, Snow?”

“All right.”

Simon found it endearing that Baz still called him Snow, as if they were still roommates who pushed each other down stairs and followed each other arounf in the catacombs. Baz only called him Simon when he meant to, and it had almost become his way of saying “I love you” in a way that was all his own.

Simon looked up- always looking up, curse the two inch difference- at his boyfriend. “What are you doing,” he asked “with the beer, I mean.”

Baz shrugged. “I needed a drinking partner.”

Simon stared at him doubtfully. “A floating bottle isn’t a drinking partner.”

“But it clinks,” Baz frowned.

“I know, it woke me up.”

“Sorry, love.”

“Don’t apologize, I know it’s hard for you to sleep...”

That was rewarded with a small glare. Baz didn’t like being reminded that he was a vampire, despite Simon’s ability to talk about it all day.

Baz waved his hand as if that could shut up his boyfriend, then picked up his wand to mutter a quiet “a place for everything and everything in its place”. The bottles of beer settled down onto the bedside table with another quiet clink and he intertwined his fingers with Simon’s.

“Why do you need a drinking partner?” Simon asked softly, tugging at Baz’s hand.

Baz sighed. “It keeps me from creepily watching you sleep.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Like First year? And Second year? And-”

“Yes, yes, and Third and Fourth and all of them, blah, blah, blah,” Baz cut him off, reaching to pull him onto his lap, “but infuriating you was half the fun.”

Simon grinned and tangled his fingers into Baz’s hair. “Of course it was,” he replied, “just like the time you threw me down the stairs.”

"That was one time,” Baz groaned, “and I told you it was an accident.”

“Sure, sure.” Simon leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the underside of Baz’s jaw. Baz groaned again, though now for an entirely different reason as Simon left a trail of kisses down his neck.

“So much better than stairs,” Baz breathed, casing Simon to let out a chuckle against his skin that was abruptly cut off by a stuttering sigh as he felt Baz’s cold hands slide up against the hot skin of his back.

Simon let out a soft moan and dragged his face up to Baz’s, crushing their mouths together. The kiss was hot and insistent, and Simon couldn’t help but shiver as Baz’s tongue stroked his and his hands mapped the entirety of his back.

He pulled back, curling his fingers over Baz’s shoulders and staring once more. Baz was panting slightly, his eyes at half-mast and his hair mussed from Simon’s touch. 

He had never looked so beautiful.

But now he was pulling back, closing off, the shutters starting to slam down over the openness...

Simon couldn’t let that happen.

He did the only thing he could think of, which, incidentally, was to reach past the waistband of Baz’s pants. When he looked up, Baz’s head was thrown back, his eyes closed, and his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

Simon grinned hesitantly. “All right?”

“Fuck yeah all right,” Baz growled, leaning forward until he could press a kiss to the mole on Simon’s left shoulder. He looked like he was going to lose it. Simon felt like he was going to lose it too. They both watched Baz’s hand travel down Simon’s chest, playing connect-the-dots with each freckle he found. From one to the next, and the next, and...

oh.

And that one, right above the waistband of Simon’s pajama pants.

“Still need a drinking partner?” Simon smiled, breathless.

And Baz looked at him with all the galaxies and all the magick in his eyes.

“Not when I have you.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos are appreciated :)  
> if you liked it, follow my tumblr: therealnickyreagan


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